The Chronicles Of Set: The Beginning
by Jiro Uchiha
Summary: Finding a stone wall in a cave far away, Helen Magnus reads the story of Set, Father Of The Abnormals, and Destoryer Of Atlantis.


_Oneshot time again! Hope you all like it, and if you want more, please review and say so, or PM me! Thanks for all of the love and support, JIRO!_

Trudging along in the hot Russian terrain, the Atlantean soldiers became weary of their position. "Should we really keep going? I mean, we are very close to _His _territory." one soldier said aloud, and other soldiers began to shiver. A rowdy, larger soldier laughed. "Hah! The man is just that, a man! He is given the name Beast King because he is primitive, like an ape compared to us!" he said, brandishing a sword made of solid steel, something, that their opponents wouldn't have. With what time it was infact, they would likely only have weapons made of copper and brass, if that. Their weapons were most likely wood, and if not wood, stone. The rowdy soldier laughed. "These 'People From The North' that we're seeking, they stand no chance. They might as well sit still and surrender their women over to us!" he shouted, and other soldiers grumbled and gave halfhearted cheers. They all turned forward, the midday sun unleashing nearly harmful rays of sunlight, lighting up every mountain, pond, plain, swamp or terrain of any sort, period. They saw a group of individuals moving in front of them at an alarmingly fast pace, and knew then. "That's them!" their commander shouted, spurring on their horses, which, were only used to attempt to blend in with the surrounding. They charged on further, closing in on the grounded tribe of nomads.

"Your Majesty, Atlantean forces are skirmishing with nomads on our borders. What would you have me do?" A general asked, awaiting the king's orders. The beast King snarled, and clenched his massive fist. "Take a hundred men and rid us of them." he growled out, his rage barely under control. The general nodded, turning and leaving the room. The king wondered how much longer the Atlantean forces were going to attack, as they stood no chance. Even with advanced technology such as teleportation devices and hovercrafts and such, the much less advanced people of the Beast King's kingdom won each and every battle with sheer will, and sheer force. If the pesky Atlanteans kept it up, he'd likely start losing men, and in turn, losing battles. And he hated losing anything, making the prospect unacceptable. If he lost a single battle, he'd storm the battlefield himself, and show them the real reason he was called the Beast King.

The woman turned and looked, seeing the Atlantean force coming upon them. Her father, the chieftain and leader of their nomadic group, signaled for them to stand and fight once again. Battling the atlantean made them weak and sick, and recovery from the battles took a long time, making them extremely vulnerable. They were down to but fifty able bodies of their three hundred strong group. But, the question was, could fifty of them beat two hundred Atlantean soldiers? She smiled for a chance to finally get her hands dirty, hopefully for the last time... today at least. They closed in with vigor, making her hands twitch all the while. The fifty men and women that were left moved forward, ready to die for their people. Her father walked up as well, about to join the battle to protect their sick, weak and young. She followed, eager to see her father's battle prowess, casting one final glance in the direction of their camp before the Atlantean force was upon them.

Her hands came to life, the supernatural energies that have always been in her flowing freely. She jabbed her palm out, unleashing a burst of flame from the palm of her hands, scorching the hide of a stray horse. The rider came from behind with a shinning weapon, one she'd never seen before, and she spun in a circle to avoid it, her long flowing blonde hair billowing around her. She wasn't fond of the color, and hoped to get away from the light, as she possessed a gene that allowed her hair and eyes to change color and pigmentation when she was in assort amounts of sunlight. The more, the lighter, and the less, the darker. She liked it darker, and as she stomped her foot, making a spire of rock shoot up and knock a rider from his horse, she decided that any way she could make it darker, she would. She exhaled, a gust of wind equivalent to gale force winds blowing from her lips, tearing the clothing and skin from a man, allowing another one of her tribesman to slam his hand through the man's back, out his chest. She spun, laughing as she continued in her efforts to vanquish the Atlantean curse.

The Beast King froze, hearing the laughter all the way in his main base, a stone building that served as his castle of sorts. The laughter was light, and cheerful, almost hard to believe that it came from the battle raging on his borders. His men were on their way, but something made him want to go himself. He stood slowly, his massive frame stretching out, almost as if removing cobwebs from itself, and he began to walk towards the battle. He knew he was leaving his main base vulnerable, but he also knew that the Atlanteans wanted him himself, not his lands. And if they did want his lands, then they had another thing coming. His land meant everything to him, and he wouldn't let them go without one long, drawn out bloody fight. As long as he breathed, these lands belonged to him and only him. He needed no weapon, as his own hands were enough to defeat the pesky Atlantean soldiers, and hopefully the entire Atlantean empire. The laughter drew him in, and he could sense his power stirring, the thrill of battle coming oh so soon. He had to join in, even for a second, if only to kill even a horse. The Atlanteans would be hardy and fearless of the magickal nomads on his lands, so magickal that he could sense it, but they would run in terror when he arrived.

The Beast King snarled out a signal to his men, and they froze, retreating back to the palace to protect it in his absence. Of course, with the King himself going, the other soldiers would just get in his way, and be collateral damage. And no one wanted that. Speeding through the forest, the King felt the wind barreling against his body, his every move causing air currents to shift. He smelt the air, and wondered just how many participants in the battle ahead remained. Of Three hundred 'People Of The North', only two hundred remain, most of the sick and weakened ones picked off by cowardly soldiers who were too weak or scared to challenge a healthy member of the tribe. The light, fluttering laughter he heard returned to his ears, drawing him in closer and closer to the battlefield. He could feel his body want to contort, but he hadn't decided into what yet. A wolf? No that would be common, and they'd think that a king would take the shape of a more regal creature, like a Lion, or a lizard. The 'Atlantean' people saw some birds as regal, which made the Beast King want to avoid shifting into something the Atlanteans had a high view of. He opted for the Wolf anyway, the beast noble and true to itself, and a real predator. He felt his body change with a primordial fluidity, almost as though instead of his body snapping and changing, it just molded from one shape to the other. His height was great, standing eleven feet tall, and weighing likely one to three hundred pounds more than the average modern werewolf. He unleashed a primal snarl, charging on even faster.

The woman exhaled, her strength sapped from the constant battle. The two hundred men were trouble enough, without the addition one hundred and fifty men that showed up as reinforcements. She panted as she disarmed one of the soldiers, using his weapon to deliver a swift strike to his chest, killing him instantly. She smiled, liking the shinning weapons and their intense killing capability. She hissed as she fell forward, struck from behind by an unseen object. See rolled, but her attacker was atop her, pinning her hands above her head. She couldn't use any of her powers, as she was drained, and she felt the sweat beginning to pour from her forehead, both from exhaustion and anxiety. She writhed for all she was worth, and made a last second gesture. She snapped her head out, snapping her jaws at anything she could grasp. She just so happened to catch his throat, and she bit down harder, and she felt his skin give way under her teeth, and then a warm, metallic taste hit her tongue. She bit harder, feeling the man's grip relinquish itself from her as more of the metallic liquid poured onto her tongue. She began to feel reinvigorated with each drop, and finally broke away, laughing gleefully as she felt her strength surge. "Their blood! Drink their blood! It heals us, restores our magick!" she screamed, and her tribesmen looked at her puzzlingly, then watched as she lifted one of the remaining men and clenched her fist, the man exploding like a bug under a shoe.

The Atlantean soldiers were deterred by the display, and chose to turn to flee. However, very hungry, very curious nomads stood all around them, only forty in number, but with enough intent and power to finish off the remaining ninety six men. The commander began to bark orders in Atlantean, and the men nodded weakly, charging forward with a renewed vigor. The girl chuckled darkly, loosing a massive burst of flame that instantly charred twenty men. She spun, channeling all of her anger and energy into one final attack. Letting loose a massive burst of lightning, she used sheer will to control it, making the electricity spread from one soldier to the next, until all seventy six remaining soldiers were spasming on the ground, charred, dead, or heavily injured. She began to wobble, her knees buckling under her, causing her to slump down. She smiled, falling back, happy that she had defeated the Atlantean cur. She inhaled, and her happiness was short lived. One of her tribesman began to shout and scream, and she sprung to her feet, and the color began to drain from her face as she saw a force of at least five hundred Atlanteans charging down a nearby mountain, her hope slowly dwindling.

She watched the force close in inch by inch, with no energy left to at least attempt to repel them. She sighed, shaking her head with her eyes clouding. They were but a few hundred yards away, and she was too weak to defend herself. Just then, a huge blur erupted from the forest, a massive roar erupting from it's broad chest. The force halted immediately, and the beast man she saw began to change again. He grew taller, nearly twice as tall if not more, and his weight likely tripled at least. He seemed to morph from a simple to Wolf, to one of Russia's native Ice Bears. They began to contemplate moving forward, but the forest trembled next to them, and an army began to file out. Massive wolves, some so large, that the blended in with the bear. Bears of assorted colors, including varying shades of brown, and black and white, along with thick, powerful stags with almost treelike antlers, and monstrous cat with huge, dagger like teeth that traveled down to their chins. Massive winged birds began to dot the air above them, and from the hot, arid mountains came large lizards, some on their rear legs, and some on all fours. The Atlanteans became slightly nervous, but the commander was stalwart, and commanded them to charge on, regardless of the situation. The men, some nervous and unwanting to continue, some hardened and ready to face any challenge, charged on, ready to challenge the beast man and his army of beasts.

The Beast King smiled, shrinking back down to his Wolf form, surging forward to meet the Atlantean force. His arm swung out, his palm unleashing a massive shockwave due to the force and momentum of his shifting and movement, causing the skull of a horse, and the chest of it's rider, to explode without a single touch. He spun around the corpses, his massive claws tearing flesh as he spun, and he came down on another soldier, feeling his skull explode under his powerful fist. He roared, his beastial army tearing apart the Atlantean forces with ease, their massive, powerful frames hardened by the unpredictable terrain upon which they were birthed. Shooting his leg out, the Beast King kicked a horse off the ground, it's rider flying into the air, where it was impaled onto the antlers of one of the great stags. Leaping over the stag, the King used his massive frame to take the heads off men as he flew through the air, his huge, thick arms cleaving their heads off with extreme ease. He began to charge in the air, his form doubling in size to the massive ancient cave dwelling Ice Bear, the massive increase in size increasing the force he moved with. He hit the ground, the extreme force of his changing, coupling with his momentum, caused a huge shockwave that easily knocked down a large group of men, killing a group surrounding him. He roared loudly, a sound that shook the ground around them all, rumbling deep in the heart of the mountains behind him, signaling that he wasn't happy, and he wouldn't show any mercy.

A second group of reinforcements, two hundred strong, halted in the plains far to the east, inside the king's territory. The commander gave them permission to move on, believing that it was safe to go on. They knew that the king wouldn't do anything about their presence, as he was in battle, and his forces were protecting the main base, which was In a Mongolian mountain range. Surging forward, they knew that once the entered the battlefield, they would secure victory for the Atlanteans. The Beast King would be captured, kept for Atlantean research, as would the People Of The North, who were their main targets. The fact that the King joined the battle to protect them was the ultimate boon. A sound was heard coming from the southeast, deeper into the King's territory. They cared not what it was, and pressed on. A shadow flew through the sky behind them, unbeknownst to the single-minded Atlanteans. Massive wings flapped behind them, casting a dark shadow beneath it's large figure like the shadow of Death itself. And with each booming flap of it's massive wings, Death creeped along with it. It moved closer and closer to the oblivious Atlanteans, it's massive jaws and thousands of razor sharp teeth curling back into the darkest smile in history, a belly rumbling like a thousand fires, and it's eyes locking on to the Atlantean force with a bloodthirsty hunger that was unrivaled by anything in history, taking joy in the first scream of terror as it's jaws peeled back and unleashed a massive burst of flame from it's scaled maw, scorching each of the two hundred men to a crisp, and then, unsatisfied, the beast burnt them to naught but ash, relishing in his work as he headed on to the Beast King's battle, which, by now, would have been won.

The Atlantean force was in tatters, hundreds injured, and hundreds more dead. No amount of reinforcements had been enough, and, as the sun set on the battlefield, the soldiers were ready to take one last stand, until a massive lizard came from the sky, likely hundreds of feet tall on it's hind legs, and landed next to the Beast King, whose figure began to mold, standing likely around fifteen feet tall and weighing likely seven to nine hundred pounds, if not more, with a wing span of nearly twice that length, and a lizardine head that matched the huge beast. The commander, who had survived somehow, but lost both of his arms, screamed. "That's a Dragon! Retreat!" He screamed, turning and running, but dropping dead a few feet later from blood loss. His mean screamed, grabbing their injured comrades and running as fast as they could, some dying within the first hundred yards from blood loss. The King scoffed, returning to his normal form, his chiseled frame turning to the People of The North. "Are you the People they have been hunting around my lands for?" he asked. The chieftan, a huge man, stepped forward. "Yes, we are. They hunt us for research, so that they may study us like a child observes magick for the first time." he said. The King frowned. "I see. I wish to help you, and anger the Atlanteans. I will allow you to stay on my lands if you wish, in a group of houses not too far from my castle." he said, and the chieftan smiled, but remained wary. "That is most kind of you, Your Majesty, but how could we ever repay you for ending a hundred years of suffering?" he asked. The King frowned. "A hundred years?" he asked. The man nodded. "Yes, ever since my father's father was young, they have hunted us like animals." he said. The king nodded.

"Very well then. If you wish to pay me, then a deal will be struck. You may stay on my lands, in already built homes, with access of all of the food my lands have to offer, and protection from our mutual enemies, and I will have something from you." he said, and the man nodded. "Name it and it shall be yours." he said, his people slowly gathering, having healed slightly from the battle. He frowned. "I heard a woman's voice. Light, fluttering laughter that drew me to the battlefield. I wish to marry this woman. I have yet to marry, or produce an heir, and as a King, I feel these are things I must do. Produce this woman by the end of the year, and I shall not revoke my offer to you." he said, and the chieftain nodded. "I accept your terms. The women you seek is likely my daughter. She is the only one of us who would dare laugh on the battlefield." he said, calling his daughter to him with a hand gesture. She came up, and bowed politely in front of the King. "Your Majesty" she greeted, and the King smiled. "You must understand Your Majesty, that our hair and eyes change color depending on the amount of light we are exposed to. Her hair will likely be black by time the winter ends, and this color again by this time next year." he said, and the King smiled. "Very interesting. I take it that you enjoy the thrill of battle?" he asked, and she nodded. He smiled. "Then we will get along very well. Tell me, what is your name?" he asked, listening to her name leave her lips, and enter his ears. He smiled, enjoying the sound of her name as he lead them back to his castle.

The rest of the year went along smoothly. The King and the woman had fallen in love, their mutual love for battle carrying their love through thick and thin. And, true to tradition, they married on the first day of the new year, their mating that night a symbolic prayer for fertile lands, the magickal energy they both possessed filling the land with power, and renewing it's strength. And, a fateful nine moths after their mating, the woman birthed a son. He was massive, and felt so much like each of them, that they wondered what power he really had. They named him Set, a name none know the origin of, but a name that is heard even in this day and age. He was strong and agile, and quickly learned how to take the forms of assorted animals and even learned how to use magick to a degree. Though, the bloodthirst that his mother's people could develop after extensive battle didn't stay that way. Set regularly took part in sanguine meals, but only from willing servants that he trusted. This did not worry his parents, but it made it to the ears of the Atlanteans, and this angered them, that a blood drinking child of their enemies existed. The Atlanteans efforts increased, and the army of the Beast King continued to repel it, their young general a force that had to be seen to be believed. But, one day that was never recorded, the young prince was suddenly King. No record of the death or retirement of his parents was recorded. He was just King, as if by magick. And once he was king, the world became a dark, dreary place...

Once the young Set was King, he unleashed a force that was unseen. He had bore children who were not human, and, in fact, were the beginning of the Abnormals. A fast, fanged, almost bat-like daughter was the mother of the vampires, the true First Vampire. Another of his children was the first therian, true therian Abnormal. Shifting between five forms of man and beast, these children's names were lost in time, never to be said again. But yet, these were our fathers, our mothers and ancestors, the creators of the Abnormal races. And, these children and their father attacked the Atlanteans. With an inhuman army, not even the technology of the Atlanteans survived, as the whole island sunk in one massive burst of energy, to fade into myth and legend. But Set knew, and he made it his job to wipe Atlantis from history, his daughter adopting their technology and altering it, making it Vampiric technology. Her brothers and sisters, who were all stronger, faded into obscurity, to become myth and legends, even less believable then their little sisters myths and legends. Even in the darkest shadows of history, they still laughed at their sister, her species becoming known for a weakness to garlic, sunlight and holy water, which was just water that was blessed by a false god, supposedly giving it a vampire repellent quality. She would threaten them whenever they mocked her, but even till they faded from history, she never followed through on those threats.

And lo did Set's army fade into obscurity. It is not known if they were defeated, or just simply disappeared deeper into the Mongolian mountains. Some say that Set separated himself from his family, off to hide in stasis away from his children and their skirmishing. Some say that the children overtook him, using his own armies against him. Others say that the Atlanteans had a secondary base, and attacked in the dead of night. And some still say that he died in his sleep as an old man, peacefully. Oracles from Ancient Greece speak of seeing a man who was a father of many, wandering a time he was unfamiliar with, with a companion he'd known all his life, one that was wiped clean from history, like many things that had to do with Set, wiped away to protect them and conceal them from enemies. However, if you are reading this, then you have found the first clue to Set's Tomb, hidden deep within fire and ice, hopefully to never be found. Can you find it?

That is what the massive stone wall said, and it confused Helen Magnus. She pondered it, wondering what it meant by 'fire and ice'. Did it mean a place with extreme hots and colds, or a place known for fire that was cold. Or a hot place that could get icy? Just what did it mean exactly? She thought on it, and then, something came to here. Someplace of extreme hot and cold, a cold places known for extreme heat, a cold, icy island with a massive quantity of volcanoes on it. Iceland. Set's tomb was hidden in Iceland. She looked about, and smiled to herself. If she did find Set, no one could no of it. No one. Not the council, nor the Cabal, and not even her staff. She had to keep it to herself. If she didn't the results would be catastrophic. Or worse, if she woke him and he lost control. She wondered if it was the right thing to do, but she shook her head and remained stalwart. She spoke to her pilot, telling him to set a course for Iceland, stating that she wanted to try the puffin up there, when really, she wanted to raise the most powerful living being from his slumber, to hopefully use him to help her, for her gain, and hopefully, his amusement.


End file.
